


Slow Dance

by Archimime



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Capable is sneaky, Dancing, Everyone Is Alive, F/F, F/M, Fluffy, M/M, Max is an Awkward cute patoot, angry Slit, confused Furiosa, funny but sometimes sad, happy wives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-20 03:27:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4771712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archimime/pseuds/Archimime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The former wives of Immortan Joe clean the Vault, destroying anything connected with the dead tyrant in order to repurpose the room into a garden for The Dag. They come across an old record player from Before. Miss Giddy often talked of such a delightful device, perhaps even more interesting than the piano thing Angharad sometimes played.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. They Go Together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [baneofboredom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/baneofboredom/gifts).



> Slow Dance: Version 1.1
> 
> I had to do two versions of this thing because someone wanted a 30s or 50s AU (which I really enjoyed) and I wanted wasteland babies confused by the pastimes of the people Before. 
> 
> Still sort of AU since everyone is alive including Miss Giddy because she is a treasure. Expect the other AU version sometime soon. Other half of this story to be posted tonight probably at 1:00 a.m.

No one wanted to open the door. 

One-hundred and ninety-seven days since they stowed themselves in the bowels of Furiosa’s War Rig to escape to the Green Place and no one had laid a hand on the door since Miss Giddy locked it behind them as they ran hand in hand down the dark halls of the Citadel toward the light of freedom.   
Five of them stood with pained expressions, huddled together as the wave of repressed memories took hold of them for a moment. The sixth was cradled in her mother’s arms, cooing absently. 

“This place is stained,” murmured The Dag, tossing a hand up and over her head with a sharp motion; a brief cursing but pleading prayer. Her other arm was draped around the youngest wife who already had tears glistening in her dark eyes. 

“We’re not his anymore,” Angharad said, a triumph in her voice that stirred her sisters. “And neither is this place. We will make it our own.”   
Her words were final as she stepped forward from their tangle of clutching hands. She alone reached out, attempted to turn the handle of the Vault with her baby girl in one arm. Toast nodded, touching her sister’s back urging her to step aside. Together they opened the door.

A place with a stained past that they would wash away together for the future that lay sleeping in Angharad’s arms.


	2. They Protect Each Other

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dag does not like Slit.

Four days in and already they were making it more like a Home. A Green Place. 

The Dag sat with Angharad’s little one on her lap, her own growing belly making it difficult to hold the squirming sprog in place. She whispered in her ear as she pointed to the tiny plants poking through the small amounts of soil within the unique holders Dag had found. 

Every pot had been something else once. Several sprouts that would bear red fruit grew from the Keeper’s old bag. Several animal skulls held vegetables, flowers even. And, to the surprise of all the former wives, the Doof Warrior had donated an old hollowed out sound contraption that he said was once called a guitar. A small garden was making itself slowly known in the Doof’s generous soil filled gift. 

The Dag was just telling the little one this story when Cheedo plopped down beside them. 

“Toast says it’s too early for you to be moving the green things in.” The smallest sister rested her head on The Dag’s shoulder, offering a finger for the baby to hold. 

“Tell her it’s too early to start making nice with kamicrazy War Boys,” answered Dag in her sweetest voice without missing a beat. 

Cheedo giggled. 

“They’re not all bad,” she said, nodding with a smile toward Nux whose help had been reluctantly excepted by the former wives as they couldn’t keep him outside the Vault with his sad eyes pining for Capable the whole time they worked no matter how many times The Dag and Angharad said this was strictly “Sisters Business, ” “No War Boys Allowed.”

The strange boy was currently hanging up wet sheets to dry with Capable, chattering endlessly about everything and nothing. 

The Dag scoffed. “You ever meet that lizard one? You can take Joe out of the Citadel, but you can’t take Joe’s Citadel out of the War Boy.”

Cheedo cocked her head to the side in confusion. The Dag ruffled her hair, kissed her cheek and then the baby’s. 

“He’s still crazy as the day Joe stuck his rotten philosophy up his powdered ass,” The Dag sighed. “Now that split-faced smeg refuses to shit it out. It’s all backed up in there forever, making him kamicrazy.”

Cheedo laughed. “Sounds like he’s just sick to me, backed up like that. I just need to make him some of your good herbs; he’ll be shitted out by tomorrow morning.” 

“I’m serious,” smiled The Dag, giving her a playful shove. “Ol’ battle fodder still wants to kill Furiosa.”

They both laughed at that. 

Even if they didn’t know that Furiosa was among the most skilled fighters in the Citadel, there was still the matter of Max. The lone Road Warrior fool came wandering in about a week ago looking for water and fuel. Furiosa had given him a room of his own but the man hardly slept and when he did, one or more of the sisters would find him pooled at the foot of Furiosa’s closed door like a ragged sand-blasted guard dog. No War Boy who wanted to keep his skull intact would dare make an attempt on Furiosa’s life. 

“Are you talking about Slit?”

Both girl’s jumped as Nux suddenly showed up behind them, concern in his wide eyes and resting on the lips of his scarred mouth. 

“It’s ok! He just needs a good shit, backed up for days, poor fella!” Cheedo rambled in a panic. The Dag covered her hand with her face as the baby took this opportunity to laugh randomly. 

Nux smiled. 

“‘So kay, Sister,” he said to Cheedo. “I know he’s not understanding it all yet, how Joe traitored us. But he’ll come around. I promise. He’ll come around.” Nux nodded with conviction as though he needed to convince himself as well as Cheedo that Slit would eventually come to their side. 

“He better,” said The Dag. “Otherwise Furiosa’s gonna have one less War Boy to feed.” 

Nux’s smile faded for a moment, but he nodded in mute understanding, almost in a bowing way toward The Dag. Cheedo looked back and forth between them, worry etched in her features. 

“Wait,” she grabbed Nux’s arm as he was about to take his leave for the other end of the Vault. “The Dag was just joking, Nux. Slit’ll be just fine. Furiosa knows that it’s going to take time for everyone. Look at us, we didn’t want to come in here for hundreds of days. Everybody gets it in their own time, and before then…I…I won’t let anything bad happen to him, I promise.” 

Nux stared, awestruck for a moment, and then his features split into a beaming smile. “Ah Glory, Sister Cheedo.” He gave her hand a squeeze, at a loss for words, as most War Boys were in the area of giving thanks. Cheedo smiled hesitantly back and the boy went rushing back to Capable, probably excited to tell her that the dearest man in the world to him would be personally protected by a Sister of the Citadel. 

The Dag looked at her like she had just swallowed a two headed lizard. 

“I’m sorry,” Whispered Cheedo. “It’s just…they’re not things either. We can’t just threaten to kill them for punishment. That’s something that….and Nux doesn’t understand that we wouldn’t really do that. We can’t say things like that because he’ll worry…”

“I know,” said The Dag, an edge of bitterness in her voice. “I just don’t like that snarling stitch-face.”

The Dag placed the baby beside a particularly shiny pot that the little one had been reaching for. Then she took Cheedo’s face in her hands. “Brave of you, protecting a smeg like him. Brave as The Valkyrie or our own Angharad. Little Cheedo who is Fragile is now brave.” She leaned forward and planted a kiss on Cheedo’s lips. And the once fragile girl felt her heart swell with love and pride.


	3. Heavy Lifting

Moving things out of the Vault was the biggest part of the job. Throwing away Joe’s things was the relieving part. Spitting on his clothes, shredding his sheets, smashing the fragile medals and trinkets he kept as proof of his right to be Immortan. It made The Dag wish she still bled each month. The other sisters were slightly disgusted, but also proud of her sentiment. 

Toast had recruited several War Boys, much to The Dag’s chagrin, to help carry some of the heavier items to be distributed to the Wretched down below or to other boys in the Citadel that could find a use for them. Nux was among the most enthusiastic of the boys. Carrying items nearly twice his size even when Toast and Capable instructed other War Boys to help him. 

One day, a scruffy head of hair was spotted by Cheedo over the sea of bald powder. 

“Max!” She cooed happily as the man stepped jerkily through the opening to the Vault. He didn’t seem to know where to put his hands, or where to rest his eyes for that matter. He answered Cheedo with a short nod in her direction. 

The other sisters noticed him as well, but silently decided together from a short hum from Angharad that it was best not to approach him all at once. The Dag said that he still saw the dead where he shouldn’t. He looked tired most of the time, hallowed out like a dead man himself. 

“I heard,” Max mumbled gruffly, “that you needed…” He lifted a hand in the air, gesturing to the piles of miscellaneous items scattered around the Vault floor waiting to be moved out. 

“Yes,” said Cheedo gently, “We could use your help.” 

Max quickly became the Citadel’s most silent junk hauler, quietly carrying the burdens the wives placed on him. Meanwhile swarms of War Boys darted past him, bragging to each other about how much they had on their backs and to “witness” how well they could balance with their loads while running like maniacs down stairs.   
All the sisters except the pregnant Dag did as much heavy lifting, most of them going out in a little group together with junk strapped to them like pack mules. They hardly made it a few steps from the Vault however before concerned War Boys would beg them to hand over their items. Toast snapped angrily at them every time they made the mistake of calling them Imperators, which was more often than any of them were comfortable with. 

Despite the chaos, the sisters observed that Max was remarkably calm. His eyes occasionally grew wild when a War Boy ventured too close to him, and he always tried to edge away from anyone he encountered. He even seemed uncomfortable sharing close space with the sisters which upset Cheedo to an unfathomable degree. 

Once, when he and Cheedo were descending a patch of stairs, he teetered precariously to the right. In a moment of pure instinct, she let several of her items clatter down the stairs to try and brace him with one skinny arm. He regained his balance quickly on his own, but nearly jumped out of his skin at Cheedo’s touch as if she had physically wounded him. 

“He’s not here to stay, no reason to get attached,” Dag told her after they took a break from working. Max had of course disappeared after the wives ordered the Boys to cease their labors. And now, The Dag’s attempt to reassure the youngest sister fell flat. 

“But…he’s…”

“He’s a Feral, not a tame dog-pet,” said The Dag. “But…he does smell like one. He probably hasn’t taken a bath since…”

“You have got to come see this!” Angharad interrupted suddenly, beckoning them to the main room of the vault. The two girls followed after her, Cheedo still wearing a gloomy frown. 

Furiosa shot them an amused look over her shoulder as they came to stand beside her, an open-mouthed Toast, and a cooing Capable. 

Max lay with his head tilted back in an armchair they planned to move out the next day, snoring lightly, with one arm supporting Angharad’s tiny daughter asleep on his chest. 

“He’s filthy, been carrying junk around all day, and you let him hold your baby?” Dag murmured, unimpressed, to Angharad. 

Cheedo giggled when Max cracked one eye open to give her whispering sister a pointed look. Even the corners of Furiosa’s mouth quirked in the semblance of a smile.


	4. Treasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally we begin the original plot for this fanfiction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I lied about this being finished yesterday. This got bigger than I realized. Get ready for more drabbles that you never wanted.

“Angharad? What is this furious fixation?” 

The Dag stoked a slender hand down the outside of a rusted gold contraption attached to a strange little table where a black circle rested beneath the tip of a tiny sharp blade, almost as thin as the Organic’s needles. 

“Hm?” Angharad turned to face her sister and Toast followed her gaze as well.

“Oh wow!” gushed Capable from across the room, padding toward them in her bare feet. “It’s a record player!”

“A what?” asked Toast, looking thoughtfully skeptical. 

“Remember? Miss Giddy says that they play music, like Angharad’s piano, only you don’t need to keep pressing things to play one.”

Angharad hummed in agreement, reaching for the handle on the side of the mysterious contraption. By now, Cheedo had left her discussion with Furiosa in the main room of the Vault to see what all the fuss was about in the adjacent room. She scooped up the baby on her way as the former Imperator took her leave to make a “supply run,” most likely an excuse to be behind a wheel again (with Max, Cheedo mentally added). She soon joined the sisters in crowding around the Citadel’s newest find just as Angharad began to breathe some life into the antiquated music maker. 

The girls all jumped when a smooth voice spoke seemingly from nowhere. 

“Welcome all you cool cats and swingers. Today we’ll be learning how to do a Shorty George and Charleston Step, so grab a partner or just go it alone, because tonight we’re dancing….”


End file.
